The Weaving Force: Chapter 148

Chapter 148:

When I saw the Separatist fleet arrive… I’m not sure what I felt.

I suppose the only feeling that fit was just… this numbness. This realization that, no matter what I was going to end that day. 

That surprises you I suppose. A Jedi feeling nihilistic. Well… It happened to me.

We were keepers of the peace… Not soldiers.

We were never supposed to be soldiers. 

And there, in front of us were all our sins, all our failings laid bare. The Separatists we couldn’t defeat, coming to burn the republic we could neither defend, nor save from its own corruption. An army of slaves bred to fight our wars now fighting itself, looking to kill us, on the orders of a Sith we couldn’t detect until it was too late.

And there I was, defending a temple half emptied and evacuated by a Jedi Council that knew we could not win.

So, I ask you… is it any wonder that all I saw was failure?

Excerpt- Testimonial Jedi Archives

Subject- Master Sean Drake

Date- 12/20th Galactic Standard 12:42 pm Corellian time

—

San Hill

“What is happening?”

It was Nute Gunray’s voice that cut through the shocked silence of the CIC.

They’d leapt out of hyperspace at the head of the largest fleet the CIS had ever assembled, confident in Sidious’ assurances that the planetary shield would be vulnerable and that they could force the Senate into negotiations with the threat of another Corellia over the Republic capital world. 

Only to emerge from hyperspace to see the Republic military fighting itself, clones firing on one another across the expanse of the void.

It didn’t make sense. 

“That is opportunity.” Grievous answered. The cyborg couldn’t physically smile, but the Muun could hear it in his voice regardless.

“Sir!” A B1 communications droid called out from his place by the console. “Section of the planetary shield underneath us is opening up. We’re cleared.”

“Excellent.” Nute Gunray crowed. “Quickly, before they seize control, lower the Munificents and Conquerors into atmosphere, and send ground forces to secure the shield generator. Once we hold it, we can threaten the Senate with bombardment and they will negotiate as Sidiou-”

San never saw the strike, merely a flash of blue before the Neimodian was in two pieces on the floor.

San heard Shu Mai scream, Wat Tambor scrambled backwards as Tikkes was the next to be cut down.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Rune Haako shouted, seconds before a lightning fast kick snapped his neck and sent his body flopping onto the floor.

“DROIDS!” San finally found his voice, standing and scrambling backwards. “DROI-”

He turned, and stared down the barrels of the super battle droids.

He only had a moment to recognize what it meant before the mechanical bodyguards opened fire.

He felt searing pain burst across his body, multiple impacts searing his flesh and robes before a flash of red across his eye and he knew no more.

—

Admiral Trench

The Harch admiral sat upon his command throne, allowing the flow of readings and information to pass through his terminals as his compound eyes read every bit of data being provided at lightning speeds. 

After several minutes, what was happening became clear enough, but the why it was happening was still a mystery. 

The Coruscant Guard were fighting the non-Guard clones. 

Certainly not what he’d been expecting. 

More than that, even with the transition of the largest Separatist fleet ever assembled into the system, their hostility did not pause. Those fleets, even amidst hurried maneuverings, were still fighting each other. 

All he could imagine was that somehow the rumored clone control chips had been, 1) More than just rumors and 2) Compromised. 

It certainly would explain why Grievous was so confident in this offensive. 

“Speak of the devil,” Trench drawled as his comm came to life.

Answering it, the high admiral let himself chuckle. “Greetings, good General, I trust you have news.”

Grievous stood tall and statue-like on screen. “The Senate refuses to negotiate.”

Trench suppressed the urge to snort. Grievous must have genuinely thought him as imbecilic as the Separatist Council. If they were even still alive.

This wasn’t a battle group made to bluff, and the events taking place in front of them with the clones were clear enough.

This would be annihilation, nothing less.

Still, he let the General keep his polite fiction. “I take it the original plan is a go, then? You shall lead the ground offensive?”

“I will. Deal with the fleet.” 

And he winked out. Trench allowed himself to sigh. Such a brute, no sense of decorum at all.

Opening his next line of communique, he was greeted by the armored visage of one Pre Vizsla.

“Greetings, Mandalore.” He said, keeping the mocking from his tone. “I trust you’re prepared for glorious carnage?”

Vizla didn’t answer his thinly veiled taunt. The Mandalorian’s features were gaunt, dark circles marring the space under his eyes, sunken cheeks and sallow flesh. It was a man with everything having been stripped from him.

In truth, his band of barely thirty Mandalorians was hardly even worth the designation of a specialized strike force, but they were still much more effective than droids on the ground. 

Vizsla’s helmet hissed as he locked in the seals. “Target?”

“Secure the shield array first.” He demanded. “We cannot have you all cut off within the planetary shield. After that…” He thought.

It was likely, but not guaranteed, that Grievous would target the Jedi Temple. But the Jedi were simply… soldiers. Not the leaders. They could not force the Republic to capitulate.

The Senate, however, could.

“The Rotunda.” He declared. “Once you’ve secured the shield generator, target the Senate Rotunda.”

—

Maul

“Back the hell away.”

The Sith snarled, fingers clenching over his lightsaber as the clones brandished their rifles at him.

“Easy.” The smuggler held up his hands. “We’re not here to fight, just trying to get to our ships.”

“It hasn’t been cleared with me or my chain of command, and that aint no Jedi I’ve ever seen. Means he ain't supposed to be here. So get yourself from the door or get yourself in the ground.

Maul’s eyes darted to the clones in front of him. A dozen, seven more on the rafters above, the blast door behind them was thick and durable. He couldn’t kill them all before they called for reinforcements and if they did call, whatever tenuous safe passage he had at the moment would end, and he did not know what that would mean for the children behind him.

However, before things could escalate, a presence appeared beside them, coalescing like morning mist, out of seemingly nowhere. 

“Stand down, commander Balam.” The Twi’lek girl said quickly and the clone immediately lowered his weapon. 

“General Karla.” He nodded. “They’re with you and General Hebert?”

“Not exactly.” She said. “Consider it as Master’s Truce rules in effect with this one… he can pass.”

The clone, now named Balam, looked at him again, features inscrutable behind his helmet but his emotions were clear as day to Maul. Suspicion, and a readiness to kill him at the slightest provocation. 

Maul may not have understood the specifics of the Twi’lek’s message, but she’d just warned the clone to remain on guard and be ready to kill him if need be.

Even so, the door opened, letting them through.

The grounds beyond were open to the world outside, the roof over their heads protecting them, now quite literally as blaster and artillery fire tried to break through the temple walls and shielding.

The ships were in an open top landing bay. He could see them from here, and beyond that, the swarm of clone dropships, gunships, fighters and now, the Separatist fleet.

Maul felt his insides twist at the sight.

“Shit.” The smuggler cursed, huffing out a breath. Maul didn’t need to read minds to know what he was thinking.

The odds of anyone flying off this planet were practically non-existent.

But frankly, Maul liked their odds within this temple even less. 

He knew his Master, and now that he’d made his move, the death of the Jedi was a matter of when, not if. 

He needed to gamble on an actual escape. 

Then, he noticed someone else… waiting for them. 

Maul knew her by reputation if nothing else. 

Yaddle.

And with her, more clones. But different ones. Their armor bulkier, their weapons more compact.

The small green woman turned to him, staring at Maul and Dennis both.

“Little time, there is.” She said. “An offer, I give you, Dathomiri.”

The Zabrak raised an eyebrow. 

—

Komari

The Munificents punched through the atmosphere like a rain of fists, slipping in and under the planetary shield, surrounding them, unleashing everything else. Vulture droids, Hyena bombers, HMP gunships and dropships.

Hundreds, thousands of dropships. 

The massive Conqueror-class atmospheric dreadnoughts were following behind, their colossal shadows blanketing the cityscape beneath them. 

Clones were at the door now, trying to force it open. She still had a few minutes before they succeeded, letting her watch and see the readouts from the long range scanners.

Clones were scrambling everywhere, redirecting attack squadrons from their assault on the Jedi Temple to the breach. The fleets were in utter disarray, neither side able to quickly rearrange themselves to defend in a three way slugging match as the bulk of the Separatist fleet rushed towards them. 

There were sounds of blaster fire now, cameras picking up droid shock troops dropping in, surrounding the compound and beginning to engage the clones along the perimeter.

Then, she felt the tremors rumbling through her feet.

She didn’t even need to look to know the Munificents had begun bombardment. 

It wasn’t a surprise, not with Grievous.

He was renowned for his terror campaigns, and oftentimes collateral ended up seeming more like the objective than the byproduct. 

She could almost hear their screams, if she closed her eyes. Hundreds, thousands of voices crying out in fear and terror… before being suddenly silenced.

The Munificents would carpet bomb across the entire planet. They’d kill everything they could reach before they were driven off… if they were driven off. But that was only… surface level. The upper spires. 

The conquerors. Those would crack through to hit the deeper levels, where the bulk of the population truly resided.

That’s when the death toll would skyrocket.

And all of this, she knew, was her Masters design. It was all what he wanted. 

‘Will the killing ever stop?’ She wondered absently. ‘When will it be enough?’

There was a crackle on the line, a cutting laser beginning to melt open the door as a voice came through.

“Infiltration team, confirm-”

That wasn’t a droid voice. “Who is this?”

“I’ll take that as confirmation. Hold tight, Death Watch inbound.”

Death Watch… Mandalorians?

Before she could give any further thought to this particular bit of news, there was a sudden bang on the door that nearly buckled it inwards, and Komari drew one saber with one hand and thrust her free hand towards the door, a ripple of telekinetic force bursting outwards and sending the entire door and the wall around it catapulting like a shrapnel bomb, the clones screaming as metal tore them to pieces. 

“Confirmed.” She answered as the crunch of armored boots drew closer, her other blade falling into her hand. “Get here soon, or there won’t be anything left.”

—

Cad Bane

“We’ve got a tail!”

Shahan’s warning had Bane snapping his head to him. “You’re sure? In all this?”

He didn’t have to specify. Pure chaos now littered the skies of Coruscant in every way. Clone gunships, civilians, and now Separatists pouring into the gap in the planetary shield, with clone fighters and Vulture droids now dogfighting in sky lanes and bombers beginning strafing runs indiscriminately. This was madness. Having a ‘tail’ in all this chaos, ludicrous.

Ludicrous or not, however, the Weequay snarled as he answered. “Damn sure.” He swerved the lumbering whale of a ship to avoid a far too close collision as a Vulture droid zoomed past them in spinning, burning wreckage. “Sig’s a clone gunship, and no matter where I go, it’s making a beeline straight for us and closing fast! Check that bitch for a goddamn tracker!”

Bane growled, pulling himself free of his seat and rushing back to get to Amidala. A tracker. That’s all they needed.

—

Anakin

“Sir,” It was a clone who spoke, and even without his next words, Anakin could sense his worry. Dying was one thing, suicide was another. “We can’t fight through that many droids.”

He was right. Anakin knew he was right. Even with his skills as a pilot, the swarm of fighters looked like a cloud in the distant skies and they were rapidly drawing closer.

He was not in his starfighter, he was flying the maneuvering equivalent of a brick. Even with his skills, he would be destroyed if they reached those droids.

“We’re getting close.”

Taylor’s whisper at his side only confirmed what he already knew. This close, he could feel Padme clearly in the Force, past the hypersaturated veil of teeming life, fear, and pain that now swallowed the whole world around them. 

He urged the gunship to go faster, pushing every system to its maximum. 

“Fighter engagement at our ten!” One of the clones pointed out. Anakin, tunnel visioning as he was, hadn’t even noticed. His eyes darted over towards the aforementioned 10-o’clock, seeing what must’ve been four squadrons rushing headlong into the fray, green and red bolts beginning to crisscross the sky as the Munificents in the distance began to carpet bomb the buildings beneath them. 

“There!”

Taylor’s sudden shout had him focusing in front again, and instantly he knew which ship was their target. 

An EML-850 freighter. Big, gray, impossible to miss on the skylanes. Anakin could sense several life signs aboard but only one mattered to him. 

“Troopers.” He called. “One of you, take the controls!”

“On it, sir.”

He stood up, out of the pilot's chair, inching through the tight, confined space of the gunship to let the clone slip by and take the proverbial wheel from him.

Emotion bubbled in the pulsing furnace that was his chest, all of the ones that he knew were dangerous. Pain, guilt, anger, fear. All of it a coiled ball in his chest.

The ship wasn’t important, the people on it weren’t important.

Padme was.

With one hand he reached for her, finding her presence, seeing the essence of her life like a candle flame in his mind's eye and shielded her, encasing her in the Force’s protective embrace.

With the other, he reached and ripped.

With a burst of fire the engines at the back end of the ship were torn clear off the vessel’s superstructure. There was no weapons fire, no rhyme or reason anyone who wasn’t a Jedi could see. One second, the freighter was flying. In the next, its four engines were ripped clear off in a burst of fire and shrapnel, sending a rain of heated metal across the sky and down to the city below as the ship began to fall like a brick.

The clone pilot cursed and swerved, narrowly avoiding some of the debris that would have ripped straight through the gunship’s fuselage as he climbed higher into the sky.

His brothers in the troop bay cursed and shouted surprised expletives as a Chadra-Fan, torn free from the ship, smashed into the windshield with a burst of blood from the impact. 

Anakin turned all his focus onto Padme and only her, putting his entire effort into shielding her as the freighter smashed into a high street of the Coruscant cityscape with a shriek of rending metal and screaming people. 

The gunship swooped down, hovering over the crash site. 

“Make it fast, Generals.” The pilot demanded. “Those droids will be on us in minutes!”

Taylor stood up from her seat, making her way to the bay doors as Anakin could already hear the buzzing of insects as they both drew their sabers.

“Let’s go.”

—

Palpatine

As his power flowed out to crackle and fork through the air between them, Alexandria tore apart the landscape in her attempts to kill him. 

Every footfall sundered the earth, every missed punch sent gusts of air pressure through the narrow choked tunnels that were almost solid blows unto themselves.

She ripped metal from the floor, the walls, whole derelict skycars were hurled at him like toys, and when he sent them sailing back to her she tore through them like a rampaging rancor. 

Only his lightning gave her any kind of pause, but even he could see that while it hurt her, it was not damaging her.

It was fascinating. Whatever power this was, whatever thing gave Hebert, Dallon, Alexandria, the smuggler and that Mandalorian their power… 

He leapt to the side, escaping from yet another titanic blow that cracked and shattered the ground beneath his feet, using the Force to slow his fall enough for the tremors to subside so he’d land on sure footing.

He launched a blast of lighting suddenly, catching Alexandria full on, but she resisted the pain this time, plowing through the waves of agony he could feel shrieking through the echoes of her mind to press the attack.

Her fist nearly caught him, his entire body cartwheeling in a backflip to get out of range as crackles of lightning danced over the black armor and cape covering her body.

She straightened, glaring at him through that helmet. The vision of her was almost that of an echo, of something far away in the Force, a reflection of her old self before she came here.

He smiled.

“You waste your gifts.” He lamented 

She snorted. “That’s rich, coming from you of all people.” She began to pace, circling him. That she was speaking at all told him how far Yoda and Windu might still be. “All that talent, power, capability. You could have made the galaxy anything. Instead, you choose this.”

He smiled. “You take the words from me; everything you’ve achieved, everything you might still achieve, and you languish in mediocrity. In service to a pacifist. A fool who can’t see past her own delusions.”

She paused, and he could see the thoughts swimming through her mind, the serpents of doubt seeking to bite down with their insidious fangs, but after barely a moment, she shook her head. 

“I’ve been down that road.” She turned her head, looking at him directly now, judging by the tilt of her helmet. “I’ve been where you are. I’m still finding my way back.”

“You may have stood in my place,” He conceded with a nod, hands rising slowly. “As ever, you are always a rival,” He let himself smile, and the yellow of his gaze almost glowed, casting an eerie light as power gathered around him “But… a rival is not an equal!”

Lightning burst from his hands once more and as she darted to the side, avoiding it with a burst of speed before lunging at him, with a flicker of thought Palpatine made the folds of near shattered steel at their feet spring upwards like a Nexu trap. All jagged teeth clamped down on her body, pure telekinetic force reinforcing the steel so she wouldn’t simply tear through it like flimsiplast.

Even so, her raw physical strength was titanic, and in spite of his greatest efforts, she was indeed tearing through the metal trap.

He blasted it with the full power available to him, the lightning leaping from his fingertips and onto the metal.

She did not scream, she would never give him the satisfaction, but she could not hide her thoughts, the pain howling across the surface of her mind even as she pushed through it.

There he felt it, sensed it.

That thing, that creature, that… entity. The one behind her, the one linked to her.

He felt it.

It brushed across her mind as he did, both observing.

He’d sensed it before, fleeting glimpses, a ghost through the fog and mists. Ten years she had battled him across the Senate, and always he made sure to examine each fleeting brush with the monster as much as he could, as safely as he could.

For all its vastness, for all its overwhelming power…

It was dead.

Dead in the Force. 

Dead, and blind.

Blind to the true power in the universe.

He could not harm Alexandria, not without the risk of exhausting himself when he still needed to preserve his strength for the challenge yet ahead of him.

But this creature, this dull, blind battery, this husk… It was perhaps another matter entirely.

He pulled more metal from the surrounding grounds, smashing it over the already existing ball, even as he saw her fist already tearing through the outer shell like breaking out of an egg, lightning dancing and flashing with strobing lights across the gloom and blackness. 

She roared out in defiance, in anger, and his hold struggled against the sheer titanic brutality of her strength.

And even as he struggled to keep his full power on her physical form, his mind wandered elsewhere, traveling following the path to that ephemeral ghost that was so much closer now.

And there it was.

Even in the depths of his mind's eye, the creature was vast in scope and scale.

But still blind. Still dull.

It could not wield the Force.

It could not see him.

Even if he could somehow physically harm it, it would take too much time, too much strength and power. 

But the dark side was a pathway to many abilities that many deemed unnatural.

Sidious reached, reached into whatever passed for this creature’s mind, whatever passed for it’s thoughts.

Immediately, his own mind was struck, almost overwhelmed by the sheer impossible volume of raw information. Like placing his hand out of a window only to have it nearly ripped off entirely before he steeled his mind, armoring himself in the strength of the dark side.

Alert, intrusion detected.

The creature’s awareness suddenly spiked, it’s alarm impossible to miss. 

Alert, intrusion detected. Network unavailable. Requesting Assistan-ERROR, broadcast unavailable-

For all its alien vastness, for all its differences, Palpatine knew what he sensed.

Fear. 

These things could feel fear.

And fear… fear he could use.

With a great bellowing howl, pulled from the blackest pits of the dark side, Palpatine’s power surged.

It was like venom piercing into a bloodstream, the toxin spreading like a malevolent cancer through the beast’s insides.

“Al-eRROR-rE-eRroR-”

The creature panicked.

With a roar, Alexandria tore herself free of the restraining trap, lightning dancing along her body. Her helmet, cracked and breaking apart, revealed a single eye that almost glowed cyan blue with the electricity dancing over it.

She lunged for him, and Palpatine pulled back his attack on the creature past her to her body itself, answering with a telekinetic shove that rippled outward like a wave and crashed into her.

Against anyone else, anything else, it would have torn them apart just by sheer physical force alone. 

Alexandria merely reeled, pushed back for barely a moment’s stumble, just enough for the lightning to leap from his fingers and drive her back even further.

He reached for the monster at her back.

Requesting assistan-ERROR, Broadcast unavailable; Network unavailable. 

It still flailed, it still panicked, and Palpatine threaded his power through its open mind, fingers tangling in the threads of its alien thoughts and pulled.

Alexandria gasped, her flight abandoning her, her body crashing onto the shattered ground accompanied by the feeling of pain, genuine, significant pain bursting across her body.

Then, something pushed back.

Its attack, if that’s even what it was, was fumbling, rudimentary. A padawan barely taking its first steps. It was the surprise that allowed his hold on the thing to slip, more than the new effort.

He heard a voice, a new voice, distant but drifting closer, rapidly.

“Warrior Shard; Arsenal acknowledges. Proceeding to assist. Attack vector, Force Manipulation. Recognized. Countermeasures employed. Queen Administrator; Contacted.”

Then, in the vision of his mind’s eye he saw it, a roiling thunderstorm breaking across the horizon as something else began to move and turn its burning gaze onto Him.

Palpatine sneered, snarling as he redoubled his efforts, on both the physical and mental battle grounds. 

But the creature was pulling away, hiding behind this new arrival. Alexandria rallied, rising to her feet even as the lightning washed over her in all its fury.

Then he sensed it… he sensed him, and Palpatine’s attack on the woman faltered as he turned and, without hesitation, launched a blast of lightning towards the ship.

The blast hit it full force, the floodlights along the underside exploding, its engines backfiring. Sidious could see the clones along the underside pods spasming and jerking in their seats as they were electrocuted to death.

But he sensed the danger behind him, a warning flare at his back and the Sith Master ducked, his attack aborted as he just barely dodged the monstrously powerful fist that nearly took his head off. 

He saw her other arm, twisted, broken…

He’d hurt her.

He moved to run, to get away, but that still working fist snatched at his robe, the woman already pulling with all her colossal strength, lifting him off his feet and whirling to smash his body into paste on the ground.

His lightsaber activated, just at the apex of his trajectory before slicing off the part of his robe she grabbed, the momentum launching him like a catapulted stone into the air.

He righted himself with the Force, seeing her careening towards him, fist already cocked back and rushing with all the speed of a hypersonic shot  before he pulled at the gunship, the entire vessel lurching forward before he catapulted it into her side, her body tearing through it. She tried to adjust, to grab at the now catastrophically damaged vessel and prevent it from crashing.

A split second later he had to raise his blade to block the tiny green one that nearly cleaved his head open.

Palpatine snarled, glaring at the tiny Grand Master who glared back before thrusting his tiny claw forward.

The telekinetic blow slammed into the Sith Master with the force of a speeder car, sending him hurtling down to the ground in a blur of black robes and red blade.

He adjusted his fall, rolling with the impact and regaining his bearings as his feet found purchase on the metal floors.

Palpatine glared, watching as Yoda descended from the skies above, and Alexandria set down the now ruined gunship, three more Jedi Masters peeling themselves free from the wreckage. He could sense two more not yet seen.

This was… not ideal.

The others were of no consequence, but Yoda and Alexandria together were too powerful to fight safely as he was.

And it was still too early. He could already feel the chaos in the world above. But it was still too early…

That meant he just had to outlast them. Survive… until his trap was sprung…

Komari

The droids dropped in from above like thunderclaps. HMP gunships provided salvos of suppressive fire on the clone positions as B2s and droid commandos crashed onto the duracrete and unfolded from their more compact positions, drawing blades and blasters as they attacked.

Giving her ample time to do what she was trained to do.

Kill unseen.

It was the commanders she targeted. Their sergeants, their captains. Clone leadership broke down and after that, the clones broke down. An organized formation descending into individual brawls and fights for moment to moment survival as more and more droids descended to secure the shield facility, to hold open the breach already made. 

By the time the Mandalorians arrived it wasn’t a battle anymore, it was mop up.

She wasn’t surprised when she saw him… No. She should rephrase. She’d sensed him before the ship even opened its doors for the half dozen or so men to march out. But she was surprised that he was here and that he came… to her.

He stared straight at her as he closed the distance, rifle slung on his back, looking for all the world like he was taking a stroll rather than standing on a battlefield. “Sith.”

“Ramah.” She nodded.

He pulled something out of one of the utility pouches of his belt, it looked like a handheld scanner of some kind. “We’re here to help secure this place against any counterattacks. If we lose this place, Vizsla is cut off.”

Vizsla. Not Mandalore. Interesting.

He fiddled with the device in his hands. “Can you lead me to the control room?”

She shrugged, it wasn’t like she had anything better to do. 

He took it as an affirmative, turning to the rest of his squad. “Go, help the tincans get rid of the last holdouts.”

His men didn’t need further prompting, marching off with rifles in hand.

“Have you stepped up in the world?” She asked absently as she turned to lead him back towards the facility. “I don’t remember you leading squads?”

“Hardly,” He snorted. “More like the world moved down. After Yavin, some died, most left. I was one of the idiots that stayed.” He kept fiddling with the scanner. 

She snorted out a laugh, passing through the main door, now lined with B2s on guard. 

Walking in silence for just a moment, the next question came unbidden from her mind. “How’s the girl?”

“Far from here.” He said instantly and she sensed his quiet relief at that, the ease of worry, however small.

The control room was as she left it, its front door choked with dead clones, its computers still running and its shield still offline. 

“Here it is.” She gestured lazily, casting an eye on the readouts of the surrounding grounds.

Bombardments had already begun. Hyena bombers and the Munificents for now.

But the Conquerors, those weren’t in position yet.

When they were… That’s when the death toll would skyrocket.

There was a shriek, an ear piercing needle of noise that sent pain through her teeth as she covered one ear and rounded on the man, the hand held thing being the source of the noise before it went quiet as quickly as it came. 

“What the hell are you doing!?” She snapped, the high pitched noise still ringing in her ears. 

Ramah turned his head, the T-shaped Mandalorian visor staring straight at her. 

“I just detected and isolated that signal you’re emitting.” 

For what must’ve been an eternity, she just stared at the man, standing there in his green and burgundy armor not really understanding what the hell he was even talking about.

Then, like a brick smacking her in the face, understanding came.

Her eyes went wide and she actually took a step back. “Wha-”

“I’m a Mandalorian.” He said by way of explanation. “You think we don’t know slaver’s tricks?”